Waving a bough full of fragrance,
In the dark, with pure good to sup,
The water the storm had made giddy
Went running from cup to cup.
From chalice to chalice rolling,
It slid along two and hung,
One drop of agate, within them.
Shining and shy it clung,
Over the meadowsweet blowing,
The wind may torture and tear
At that drop—it will never divide it.
Nor the kissing, the drinking pair.
They laugh and try to shake free and
Stand up, each straight as a dart.
But the drop will not leave the stigmas,
Wild horses won't tear them apart.
Душистою веткою машучи,
Впивая впотьмах это благо,
Бежала на чашечку с чашечки
Грозой одуренная влага.
На чашечку с чашечки скатываясь,
Скользнула по двум, – и в обеих
Огромною каплей агатовою
Повисла, сверкает, робеет.
Пусть ветер, по таволге веющий,
Ту капельку мучит и плющит.
Цела, не дробится, – их две еще
Целующихся и пьющих.
Смеются и вырваться силятся
И выпрямиться, как прежде,
Да капле из рылец не вылиться,
И не разлучатся, хоть режьте.
«Let us now praise freedom's twilight, / The glorious twilit year! / Into the midnight boiling waters / A massive forest of snares is lowered. / You rise above obscure years, — / O sun, O judge, my people. Let us praise the fateful burden / The people's leader takes up tearfully. — /...»
«Brethren, let’s praise the dusk of freedom / With its great year of twilit gloom, / Its hefty grove of dangling snares / Cast into the night’s jet-black waters! / From under a deaf age’s yoke / You rise, O sun! O judge! O folk! And let us praise the fatal burden / Taken up in tear...»
«Whoever kisses time’s ancient nodding head / will remember later, like a loving son, / how the old man lay down to sleep / in the drift of wheat outside the window. / He who has opened the eyes of the age, / two large sleepy apples with inflamed lids, / hears forever after the roar of ...»
«He who has kissed time on its tormented temple / With filial tenderness will subsequently / Recollect how time took to its bed in a snowbank / The color of wheat beyond the window. / He who had raised the century’s inflamed eyelids — / Two giant apples swollen with sleep — / Will c...»